A tale, never told
by Belgianwritersblock
Summary: First and last crossover I'll ever make ain't my strongpoint After the war the Gaang finds a boy fainted in the woods, it's everyone's favorite sociopath... H. Lecter. No, he won't eat the Gaang, don't worry, I'm not that lame. More info on the inside! On hiatus.
1. Whispering Winter

Crossover: Avatar – Hannibal

**A/N**: So here's the deal, I don't usually write crossovers (I hardly even write fan-fiction these days), and I usually don't read them either. This one just played in my mind. On Hannibal's side, it starts of rather 'Hannibal rising'-ly. But I'm not gonna let him go through his becoming of a monster for to long (Besides, I wasn't exactly the biggest fan of that film, the book was alright though, less then the others). It won't follow any specific storyline from any of the books, it just seemed better to introduce a thirteen year old Hannibal to the Gaang, instead of an old one. Also, some people from the books (cough cough Mason Verger cough cough Will Graham cough cough Red Dragon cough cough) will make appearances in this fan-fiction, perhaps not always with a nice ending to these get-togethers.

There you have it... I hope you'll enjoy chapter one of '**A tale, never told**.'

BTW: I don't own the 'Avatar-' nor 'Hannibal-franchise'.

**_Please review._**

Chapter one: "**Whispering Winter**"

* * *

One day after the date that would go down in history as the official defeat of the fire nation, princess Azula (after coming to her senses a bit) fled from her incarceration in a fire nation prison. She rallied up others who still had the will to fight and the stubbornness to defend the spoils of war, which their country had taken. This small army rebelled for six months before their leader finally abandoned the cause, she left them all to the mercy of the other nations, while she herself went into hiding. This army roamed the earth kingdom for six horrible months. To be exact: They burned fear into the natives hearts for one-hundred-and-seventy-seven days. They marched relentlessly, driving away entire cities out of fear, whilst they themselves were hunted down by an even bigger and more powerful army, led by the avatar himself. When winter finally came, the snow and cold slowed the wild plunderers down. The cold affected their powers, the constant march left them weak for they lived of of plunder and never stayed long. Walking forever, arriving in empty cities, the food evacuated as well, made them very hungry. Near the kingdom of Omashu, lies a forest and some of these tired warriors took refuge among them trees, five days before they surrendered and three days before Azula betrayed her troops, a small group of soldiers found a cabin… Here they warmed their cold bodies and slept there as well, they regained hope for a while… It was here, that they fed.

Five days later, on the day the war of a hundred years truly finally ended, the treaty was signed by a general who replaced their disappeared leader, his name was Hozon, and he got of with life. On that same day (at 8 a.m.) the 'Gaang' flew over that very same forest on Appa's back. They guided helped out the weak and drove out the strong of both sides. The mist was almost as thick as Appa's coat and dew still covered the ground, though it had already been turned to frost. Having helped out seventeen soldiers already, Aang and (his now girlfriend) Katara were getting quite tired, Toph was just plain and simply bored. Sokka looked through the long scope he carried in an attempt to find other people, who might be lost.

"I still don't get why we have to help the fire nation soldiers get out too." Toph complained. And it may sound like fair remark, after all grief they've caused.

"Because." Katara replied. "If we want to create a new and better world, we have to make sure we don't build it on the same hatred the last one ended in."

"Yeah, well anyways Aang, I think were to deep into the forest. No soldiers would have passed this place, I think." Sokka mentioned.

"Why's that Sokka?" Aang asked.

"Well, this deep into the woods is just to far away from the command centre they had, you'll find a lot more people near the edge of the woods."

"Ah. But it's those that are in deeper that are in the most need of help."

Sokka sighed and turned his head towards the monk and away from his scope. "Fine, don't listen to me, after all, I'm only the 'Idea-guy'." He turned back to his post as lookout. "But for the record, I don't think we'll find… A boy in the woods, with a chain around his neck!"

"Well, either that's a big imagination you have got there, or you were wrong Sokka." Katara joked as Aang had already turned around the flying bison.

They landed a small distance away from the boy and greeted him by trying to shout him over and waving towards him. Appa's figure scared away all the 'wolffoxes' that had followed there weak and tasty prey. Reluctantly they would come to regret that their waiting for him to fall on the ground, unable to put up a fight, cost them their snack. Knowing fully well that he tasted as good as his family had, 7 days ago. The boy, shrouded by mist and covered with snow and blood and sweat wasn't aware of his surroundings anymore and hadn't moved since they landed. The trail of blood soaked through his footprints in the high layer of snow, and froze in his on his slender face and his black clothes. These ordinarily fancy clothes, being from high quality and beauty were now ripped and stained with blood. The color black stained with something close to bordeau. His gaze telling nothing to no one. The Gaang jumped to the ground and walked towards this strange figure. Before they got far, however, the boy collapsed, he fell flat on his face. The thick snow that had given him hypothermia now broke his fall and probably saved him a broken nose.

By now the group ran towards him and gathered around him. Sokka turned him over. The skinny boy, breathed one word before he lost the last of his consciousness… That word was 'Mischa'.

Though Toph hardly recognized his weak and hoarse voice, she knew there was no doubt. 'Mischa' was the name of the sister to the one person with a voice she could link this one to, though it was terrible to hear it in this state. A brother and sister of earth kingdoms royal blood from a family befriended to hers. A brother and sister she had met just once, four years ago. Instantly she placed her hand on his left hand and counted his fingers, six of them.

There was no doubt… this lad was Hannibal Lecter…

* * *

While Hannibal had his uncomfortable dreams, through which he'd scream if he had the strenght in his lungs, the group carried him to the top of Appa's sadle and put covered his cooled body, sheltering it from the blizzard that was slowly building up. Toph quickly bended the chain of of his neck and Aang used firebending to keep him warm while Katara did her business as the medic. She seemed worried, Aang could see it in her eyes. Toph knew it without having to see Katara. Her being quiet and strained meant it wasn't going well. To top of Toph's speculations, when she took the hand of the ill young man, same age as her (being 13), she felt his pulse was slow. Furthermore did she feel a certain void coming from within him, it seemed best not to mention it right now. The fear of losing someone she knew, even though she only met him once, agitated Toph. To relieve her frustration she yelled at Sokka, that being the custom.

"Sokka, what the hell are you doing there? We need to leave, bring him to the infirmary, meathead!"

Sokka, who had returned to the place Hannibal had fallen yelled back in return, his reason being the distance betweem them rather then annoyence. "He had a chain on! Perhaps we'll find something or someone if we head back down his trails."

"_Mischa_" It dwarreled through Tophs head, though she didn't say it out loud.

"It doesn't seem like the smartest thing, though!" Aang yelled with his air-bending-speaking, for the wind of the blizzard roared up and snowflakes fell in great numbers. "We can't leave him here while we look for others, he won't make it!"

"He needs my care and your warmth, Aang." Katara told him. "We can't keep him here, he'll die."

Toph, hearing this, jumped of of the saddle. "Then you guys get out of here! Sokka and I will look for others, that 'Mischa' he whispered, before the blizzard covers the tracks." Aang and Katara seemed reluctant to leave there family and friends alone in a snowstorm. "It's the only choice we've got! My seeing through the earth might be able to find others."

"You might freeze to death, Toph. You can't even wear shoes, because else you're truly blind." Katara reasoned.

Toph's reply was honest as well as brave. "More people might freeze to death if we don't do this... My mind's made up. Try to come back as soon as you can, I'll bend a high pillar of earth, so you can find us."

Aang closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, when he released it he spoke two little words, though he didn't like to say them as he usually did. "Yip yip." The bison took off.

"You know..." Sokka started, a little annoyed. "You guys could have asked me if I wanted to go on this little quest. I mean, I'm all for saving more lives, but if we don't find shelter, we'll freeze to death." When Toph, more serious then ever didn't reply to this, he continued with a sigh. "Let's just keep moving, then. Be careful your feet don't freeze off."

"Yeah, about that." She bended the earth beneath her to lift her above the snow. "Hop on, you tell me which way to go, I'll go as fast as I can."

* * *

So it was that while Toph raced across the earth, following Sokka's instructions, that Appa raced the white skies to get to the field-hospital in time. The wind blew vigorously and the snow started to turn into hail. It pounded on the three youngsters on the bison's back while the storm nearly blew them off. In his constant altruïsm, Aang still wondered how his friends were doing, even though he was in a lot of trouble himself. Katara kept talking to the boy, reassuring him. Aang wondered if the mysterious boy could hear her while even he couldn't over the roars of the blizzard and the groans of his bison.

In Hannibal's mind he was surrounded by darkness. His weak state affecting his mind. His mind, which had already recently gone through a transformation, now threatened to lose quite some memories. They fell into the dark and he could not get them out. There was a barrier holding him from them, it consisted of something deeper then fear, something more primal than force and more ugly then hatred. Hannibal categorized it as 'weakness', it consisted of empathy, love and the belief in a just world. If he wanted his memories back, if he wanted to find whoever did this, he would have to brake down that wall and become the monster 'THEY' had created. Though there was no promise that he'd find out what happened, he knew it to be true. And he listened to the voice, telling him it was alright to become...

Had it not been for Toph's speedy way of transportation, they would've walked for about as long as Hannibal had. In a cold forest like that, such a thing isn't a good idea. Neither would they have been able to follow the footprints, the snow covering the rapidly. Finally, just as the tracks completely disappeared, Sokka yelled out in relief. "I see a light over there. Let's head that way, it's where he came from, most likely."

"I have to tell you, 'Over there' isn't really something that works for me, Sokka. Tell me where it is." Toph replied in annoyance towards Sokka's relentless particular amnesia about her being blind.

"Oh sorry, it's just a bit to your right." His voice carrying his shame.

After reaching the hospital, Aang wanted to return to his friends, even against the will of the doctors. They begged Katara to stay, as they were short of hands, she agreed. Aang returned to his flying friend, to go get the others, it was obvious however, that Appa wasn't going anywhere. The previous flight had left him completely worn out. He had fallen to the ground, fast asleep. People took shelter in his fur to keep themselves warm, and in return kept him warm. So for that it wasn't this friend he was worried about at the time... He took his glider and took off, to find Sokka and Toph.

Finally they arrived at the cottage. Toph, sensing no movement arround them said it was alright to enter. One small lamp was still glowing slightly in the dim cabin. The young boy and girl were in awe from the first vision they received from the cabin. Toph, being blind and seeing through vibrations, may not have been able to see the blood across the floor, walls, even the ceiling and in the pots, but she did notice the bones, human bones that lied next to the pots... completely gnawed of... "This... it's just... sick..." Sokka spoke, his voice weaker then ever before, and Toph concurred.

In the hospital, Hannibal had regained enough strenght to scream in his nightmares... Katara shook him slightly, trying to awake him, to get him to eat and drink a bit before making him go to sleep again. At the lightest touch he opened his eyes and turned calm. He saw the girl in blue clothes, with brown hair and a slightly darker skin bended over him, but he did not acknowledge her.

Hannibal had willingly chosen to become...

* * *

**A/N** For those of you who didn't know, Hannibal Lecter (the book-version) does have polydactyly.

I do not know where I'm going with this story yet, although I do know a way to create a showdown with Mason Verger which includes the Gaang as well as Hannibal... That and the fact that my exams are coming up probably made it so that I shouldn't have posted this yet... but as I rode through 'Nachtegaal Park' ( a park behind my home) on my way to school this morning it was snowing, and I just couldn't put this story out of my head... I could see the first scene coming to life in front of my own eyes... hope you can too now.

P.S.: It's not gonna be a story in which Hannibal wil try to kill of and eat up the 'Gaang', nor will they duke it out, in fact: They won't know about his desires, at least for the first few chapters.

Please review.


	2. Fairytale Cabin

Disclaimer: Does someone need to check the dictionary for the word 'fan-fiction'?

Enjoy...

**A tale never told: Chapter two**

* * *

Aang's glider was taking quite the beating. Actually that might be an understatement. Hail and wind were tearing it apart. The young avatar knew that if he didn't find his friends soon he'd crash into forest for the bad weather really made it difficult to keep altitude. Finally in the distance a bolt of lightning hit a spike high in the air. For a flash of an instant the boy saw a high tower built of earth. The metal rod on the top was acting as a lighting reflector. He praised Toph for her resourcefulness and headed over there on the speed of air. A few seconds later an unusually large piece of hail split his glider in two parts. He fell down into the trees. The branches broke as he plummeted towards the earth. In a last effort he inhaled as much as he could and exhaled with all his might. It slowed him down, quite a lot really, but not enough to keep him conscious as he hit the snow.

* * *

"Miss Katara, can I speak to you?" Asked a rather unpleasant voice, back at the field-hospital.

"I'm kind of busy right now." She responded while bending healing water over a soldiers broken arm. She turned a quick glance towards the man. He was middle-aged and looked exhausted beyond his age. He reminded her of an eel, though she had never seen one with brown and gray hair. "Mr. …?"

"Doctor. I assure you." He seemed to take quite some pride in that. "Dr. Chilton is my name."

"Well '_doctor_'." As it had sounded as gold from his mouth it sounded like an insult coming from her. "How about you make yourself useful. We're a bit short of hand here."

"Well, actually…"

"Hand me those bandages will you?" He did so, reluctantly. He found it below his stature to do a nurse's job.

"Actually I'm a psychiatrist. I haven't come to heal the, so to speak, wounds of the flesh. I'm here for someone with a more delicate injury. A damaged mind and soul, if you catch my drift."

"Let me ask you some questions, Dr. Chilton. Did you go to medical school?"

"Why yes, certainly, it's required when you're to be a psychiatrist. I went to the finest school in the entire Earth kingdom."

"So you can make yourself useful in a hospital where people are dying?"

"Why… yes I suppose I could, but I've come for a more delicate…" He stopped right there as she scorned her retort right through his sentence.

"Have you put your arm through an incision elbow-deep in a man's paunch to get to a metal shard of a spear, lodged dangerously close to his heart and removed it successfully?"

"… Why no … That's not how I spend my free Saturday's." He said with a little smile that made him look like a snake.

"Then don't talk to me about being delicate! Now help or state your business and leave, please."

"Fair enough. I've come to examine Hannibal Lecter."

"Who?"

"The doctors told me to see you about him, he's supposed to be one of your patients."

"You'll have to be more specific. You're going to be alright." This last remark was to the man who's arm she had fixed.

"Well this is the situation. Word got around real quick that a boy with six fingers on his left hand had been emitted here."

"Oh, him."

"Yes, and because it is quite rare to have polydactyl we naturally assumed it was the young Lecter boy."

"What makes him so special that they'd send you?"

"Oh, well he comes from a rich and powerful line of royal blood. His father is a count. We need to make sure it's him and then find out where his parents are."

"That's not going to be so easy."

"How do you mean?"

"He hasn't said a word yet. Except when he's asleep, then he just screams 'Mischa' over and over."

"Ah, his sister. No doubt his acute speechlessness is brought on by some sort of trauma. I expect something terrible might have happened to his family. That's so sad."

Katara didn't read any sadness in the man's voice, nor anything for that matter. That was the worst part. She felt he didn't care one bit, and perhaps he didn't. Chilton continued. "I'll probably have to take him to my psychiatric institution."

"You'll do no such thing." Katara's reaction resembled something close to a lion protecting it's cub. If Hannibal, and if that was his name, didn't speak because of something happening to his family, she understood perfectly. After her mother had died she hadn't spoken for days.

"The other doctors told me you might be a bit overprotective of him." The man smiled his snakelike smile again.

"That's got nothing to do with it. He's got hypothermia and as long as I deem him unfit you won't go near him. Understood? He needs rest now."

The man however continued to pry. "I assume you've always had a weak spot for taking care of others. The need to protect and mother those around you. I've seen it before, dozens of times, you're not alone you know. Many people lost one of there parents due to the war and felt the need to have them replaced."

"Stop it."

"Even if they had to replace them themselves. They grow up to fast, or al least try to." He seemed to take pleasure in the fact that he could use his psychiatric insight to hold her down. Meanwhile trying to break her, so he could get what he came for.

She slapped him in the face. "Now get out of my hospital." She wasn't going to let some creepy jackass take her patient away. Unlike this Dr. Chilton she had a grasp of knowing, feeling what the boy went through and he didn't care about his welfare.

"You women can be so emotional some times." Adding 'sexist' to his many negative character traits. "You think you're doing the right thing, mothering him. But I truly need to examine him."

"I think I'm doing the right thing by keeping a sick child in a hospital."

"Very well." He conceded. "I'll come back when he's feeling better. But just so you know…"

"What?"

"You're still a child yourself. Don't try to be his mother, it'll only mess him up."

Katara had no comeback to this last remark. A thirteen year-old boy saw the man leave. His six left fingers grasping one of the curtains. Katara turned around and saw him. She walked over to him as Dr. Chilton left the tent. He didn't like this man. He seemed so pretentious. And face it he wasn't really a gift to society. He had just kept a doctor away from her work. Perhaps people had died during their discussion (which he had heard completely). Furthermore he despised him for picking on small people. Especially picking on small girls made him mad. True, this girl was about his age (a year or two older at most) but the recent events had left him quite mad about this sort of thing. If he wasn't a monster, perhaps he'd feel his blood boil. As he watched his back disappear through the flaps of the tent he vaguely wondered what the man's brains would taste like, given he didn't seem to use them much.

The girl reached him and said his name. His eyes flickered to her face as acknowledgment of the name. Their eyes were at the same level. She told him to go back to bed in a tone that sounded more as directed to an equal then to a child then before. He obliged. While lying in his bed some memories came back to him, for some strange reason they were all about the chef's recipes back at 'Lecter Castle'. Recipes he'd been taught. Recipes that had been great and sublime but, the more Hannibal thought about it, missed key-ingredients…

* * *

"I sure hope the others are alright." Sokka said as he was bent over the remnants of the last fire in the chimney. He was desperately banging two stones together to try and make a new fire. He had been doing this for a long time. Toph, who was sitting on a nearby couch, merely shrugged. She was to focused on her thoughts of Hannibal to really listen to Sokka. "I just hope Aang wasn't stupid enough to try and come back for us so soon, through this weather."

"He was." Sokka turned at the sound of Aangs voice. The avatar shot a fireball directly into the chimney and got the fire going.

"Well" Sokka said and looked at his rocks in shame and annoyance. "That's one way of doing it."

"Aang are you feeling alright?" Asked Toph, feeling his heartbeat.

"Sure, I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"Never mind that. Is that blood one the floor and walls?"

"Yes." Said Sokka. We don't know what happened here but we found the bodies … well, bones, of three people inside. Two grown-ups and a child."

"I buried them." Toph added. "That's when we found the bodies outside."

"What in the spirit-world's name happened here?" Aang asked astonished, taking place next to Toph.

"Idea-guy has a theory." She said.

"I know a battlefield when I see one." Sokka started to explain. "I think the owners of this house were killed by the fire-nation rebels we've been chasing, at least by a rather small group of them. After that an argument must have broken out. My bet would be the surrender. It split the group in two. The bodies we found outside, they were all fire-nation, they were all burned."

"That doesn't explain why you found bones instead of bodies inside the house. Isn't it more likely the owners passed on a long time ago and the rebels found their bones here, just like you did?" Aang asked.

"We found them next to cooking pots Aang."

It took a few seconds before the young airbender understood what his friend was trying to make clear. Then suddenly, he got it. "You're not saying..." He stopped as he saw Sokka's soft nod of agreement. It told Aang that although de boy from the water-tribe was sickened by the very idea itself, it was very much what he meant. "... Oh."

"I wonder who he was." Sokka sighed. A short silence filled the room. After a while Toph broke it.

"His name is Hannibal Lecter." She stopped for a second. "And bye the looks of it, he's now a count."

"You knew him?" Aang asked.

"Met him once, together with his sister. He was very protective of her. Our families were... 'close'. Which in the high society terms doesn't say much. Everybody knows everybody, even if they don't."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Sokka intervened.

"Would it have mattered? Rest up Aang. As soon as you're ready I want to leave. I think I need to speak him. If anyone is to talk to him, it should be me. Perhaps he'll recognise me."

"How do you suppose we do that? There's a hailstorm and my glider is broken."

"Ah, well..." The self-proclaimed 'Idea-guy' spoke. "If you've got the strength to bend fire to keep us warm, Toph can bend a metal shield to protect us. I'll lead the way. After all I'm a great navigator." Though Sokka had meant well, they'd get lost twice before they got back to the camp.

* * *

A/N: Well it took a while, but I wanted a review to make sure that at least someone was reading ^^. So here's chapter two. The next one will contain more focus on Hannibal then this one.

Anyhow, please review.

Hope you liked it.


	3. Takeout

Well, here's chapter three. Perhaps the first chapter really worthy of M. (Though there will be others.) Prepare, for it's a rather big one!

Disclaimer: Even if I did own the rights I wouldn't publish this in other media. It's just to traumatising for little kids who want to watch ATLA!

The bad weather had subsided, and it was a good thing that it did too. Otherwise Sokka's allegedly premium navigational skills might have gotten the main characters killed, lost in forest. Luckily, it did not. Instead they arrived at the tent where Aang was greeted by the always cheerful Momo. Appa though was still regaining his strength. Entering through the flaps of the station where Katara and Hannibal were located, they were greeted by long, silent stares. Soldiers that stood on the Gaangs side watched in awe at the group, moving slowly towards the seated doctor at the end of the tent. Wounded soldiers that used to be part of the rebelling force now looked in shame and their eyes pleaded for forgiveness at the avatar and his crew. Some didn't really feel sorry for their actions, others did. That's just the way people are.

The group of friends found the young waterbender at the other side of the tent. She had just been seated, ironically by instructions of the other doctors. This was because she had been working too hard. She had given her all and was burned out. It was a good thing that at about that time the flow of wounded entering the field hospital had dropped tremendously. She had chosen to sit by the side of Hannibal. Apart of the fact that she wanted to make sure no other doctor gave him to that Chilton-man she appreciated that he didn't speak. She did need rest now and he seemed to understand. He left her alone, as he wandered in his own mind. He was remodelling the interior design of his palace of thoughts. With his eyes closed he appeared to be sleeping. To Katara's relief he wasn't screaming 'Mischa' all over again. Perhaps it should have been a clue to the fact that he was watching the party through the crack between his eyelids.

After a small but warm greeting between them Hannibal heard them discussing about him, but he wasn't ready to make himself aware yet. The shapes were distorted but the voices clear.

"Is he allright?" A male voice, about his age, asked.

"Yes Aang." The girl he had known as doctor Katara replied. "He is stable, at least for the time being. Did you find anyone else?"

A short silence from the crowd enveloped. "In a matter of speaking. They were all … passed on." Said a slightly brute voice, trying to be considerate. But it was not this voice that made Hannibal mingle in the conversation. No, it was the one following that. "I buried them." that voice added. It was a voice that said it plain and simple. " 't is as 't is, and 't is this" it seemed to say. Hannibal could respect that. The death of his family was nonnegotiable at this time. But more then that, he knew that voice. "I want to speak to him." It continued.

"You can't yet." Katara said. "He hasn't said a word yet, except 'Mischa' in his nightmares. Besides he's resting."

"It's quite alright." Spoke an elegant, persuasive and deadly calm voice. It was that she saw him say it, or Katara couldn't have linked it to the screaming voice of before. "It'd be a privilege Toph Bei Fong."

"You know him?" Katara was a little bit confused.

"Guys, could you take sugarqueen out of here and explain it to her?" Toph asked. The boys got the hint and left her alone.

* * *

It was the strangest conversation that Toph had had in her life. It wasn't the unnatural elegance of the words flowing from the boy. Nor was it strange calmness in which he explained he already knew the faith of his family. No. It was the hollowness that got to her. His voice danced and sprung and ran and waltzed. But he didn't. She could always tell when someone lied. Now she couldn't. She didn't sense pain or sadness radiating from his bodily vibes. Just an emptiness that seemed to drag one along. If record players had existed she would have been able to link it to that. Just like the elaborate voice that invited people to move, and sing to the tune whilst they are very conscious that the person inviting them isn't there. But she knew of no such thing as a record player and therefore it was unlike anything she had ever witnessed. And Toph knew that she was the only one who could tell. The only one who could see beyond the surface. She tried not to show any of this, of course. But somewhere she feared he knew.

She was therefore relieved when an old man interrupted the conversation. It was a decently dressed man too. The grey hair on the top of his head was curling unlike his moustache, which looked like a dusty broom. "Master Lecter!" He called out and rushed to the bed."

"Hofttan. How nice to see you." The boy replied whilst being given a hug by his butler.

"They told me you where here. I couldn't believe it."

"Who told you?"

"A man named Chilton. He says he'll have to examine you. I was to, how did he put it, take you home so he could examine you in a preferable environment. He made it sound like you were ill, master Lecter."

"I have been. And I would have been a whole lot worse if it hadn't been for Ms. Bei Fong here, and her friends."

Hofttan turned to her and offered a small smile and nod out of gratitude. "Pray, do tell where I might find your parents. Now that the rebel-army has been defeated it seems safe to have you around Lecter-castle again. I've already started preparations."

Slowly and sadly (tough Toph didn't read any sadness) he shook his head. The shock reached the old butler slow but hard. "Oh, No! That can't be! And your sister?" The old man's pleading look only met a dead stare. "How… no… no I don't think I'd want to know." It is a strange relationship between a butler and his masters. Not quite like family but deeper than business. Not friendship but sturdier and eternal. It is therefore hard to describe the loss Hofttan felt.

"I believe I would like to go home, Hofttan." Hannibal said in a voice that Toph could only describe as weak although it missed the foundations for it.

The butler seemed to regain the strength to resume his lifelong duty. "Yes sir." He said solemnly. "I'll have the personnel back there by tonight."

"No need, I think I'd prefer a little less of crowd. But I'd very much like it if you prepared the table for five tonight, my good man."

"Sir?"

Hannibal saw that the rest of the Toph's companions had carefully returned. Judging Sokka, he carefully chose his words. "That is if my saviours wouldn't mind giving me the honour of providing a well earned meal."

"Free food?" Sokka already seemed to drool. "We'll be there."

"It should give us a chance to catch up Toph." Hannibal said. Though Toph didn't respond. She was enwrapped in different thoughts and instincts. She wanted to check whether he'd be all right at home, what his plans were, now that his family had died. But something told her not to accept. Something told her that going, meant something bad would happen. "Toph?" The kind voice of Lecter spoke again. This time ringing through.

Toph wondered whether she could make her feelings clear to her friends. It didn't seem so. "Sure." She said in a kind, reassuring voice that tried to convince whoever spoken to that she'd be there through thick and thin. "It would be our pleasure."

"Wonderful." The boy replied. "Shall we say my place at eight?"

* * *

It was shaping up to be a beautiful day. Hannibal Lecter pondered over this as he walked through the market. How strange and simple that such beauty could continue after such a tragedy. It showed him that the spirits were cruel creatures indeed. Not fair in anyway. He took comfort in this, for it told him he could be equally cruel and that justice could be shaped to fit his ideal. For the main part that ideal would be the hunt for revenge. Right now it consisted mostly out of self-preservation and a little bit of hunger for dinner.

Last nights storm had cleared for a beautiful open sky and although it was still pretty cold, the sun seemed to have an effect on the people up and about. The market was crowded with plenty of them, most wearing smiles. Hannibal himself had circled the entire market once, remembering each stand and each merchant without fail. The bells of a distant tower rang twelve o' clock and Hannibal gazed at a small but fancy tavern across the plaza. A man entered it. "Right on time." Hannibal thought and drew up a smile of his own.

The man seated at the bar was a psychiatrist. He was a regular costumer in this tavern. Here he usually had his lunch. It's a strange thing how people with a keen insight to the human soul often misjudge themselves. For he was under the impression that he was very much liked in this place, although no-one here would truly miss him when he stopped showing up. Even the barkeep cared only about selling one less sandwich and one less beer a day. He ordered his usual, unaware that he was a creature of habit. While waiting he smiled politely at all the other customers. Though this was only a façade. He cared for their affection but he didn't think of them as equals. However, they smiled back and he was pleased. A young boy took up the seat next to him.

"A Chateaux Lecter please." The boy asked the barkeep quite friendly.

"Ah, a connaiseur?" The psychiatrist asked amused.

"I should hope so." The boy replied. "Dr. Chilton, I presume?" The boy extended a six fingered hand.

"Ah, young Hannibal I see." He shook it, with a firm grip, slightly hurting the boy's hand. This was to establish his dominance. "I was unaware you had left the hospital." The barkeep returned with their orders. And as soon as he did Chilton notice the boy was also using psychological warfare. The wine Hannibal had ordered represented class, definitely opposed to Chilton's beer. "What is your business here, my boy?" Chilton said, ignoring his thirst.

"Dinner." The young boy replied. "Then I saw you entering this tavern and I remembered you wanted to talk to me."

"Examine you." The doctor corrected, trying to regain the upper hand.

"Yes." They stared at each other and took a mutual moment to indulge each other. "I'm afraid I'm rather pressed for time though. Do you care to walk with me?"

Chilton thought about this for a second. Leaving meant losing the home-advantage. Though sadly he had no choice. "It would be my honour." A polite answer sucked up most of the damage. "Please allow me." He grabbed his wallet. So it was they left the bar, both orders still intact and a testimony to Hannibal's rising.

"So you've decided to throw a dinner-party? So soon after what happened?" The psychiatrist enquired.

"Why yes." Hannibal replied, picking out the best olives of the bunch. "Tell your bosses that it's because I want to distract my thoughts. Not because I'm too traumatised to care."

Chilton ignored the remark. "Must be very stressful to feel the pressure to keep up the family name, not to mention your castle?"

"Ah, but I have Hofttan's help. A good man he is."

"Your butler? Is he enough to count on? I don't think it's a good place for someone in your situation to grow up alone in that place."

"Ah, Lecter Castle? I understand your masters would like to have it? Isn't that why they'd sent a lacky?" The boy spoke indifferently as he examined the tomatoes. "A very competent lacky, I'm sure. But hasn't the psychiatric ward been trying to pry the castle from my families hands for years?"

"Your families eccentricities has given many reasons to investigate." Chilton's voice betrayed nothing but pure business. He was quite frank, but only because he knew right now he couldn't prove any sign of insanity. The only sign of insanity seemed to be Hannibal's unhealthy level of sanity. Though the boy's rudeness aggravated him a little. On the same tone he continued. "Besides, I doubt the judge would allow a young boy as yourself alone with a butler. A butler you seem to try to replace as the father you recently lost." Hannibal remained silent. "I'm right, ain't I? You lost your parents?"

"That's not enough to take away my home from me my good man?" Hannibal's voice seemed to try and sound confident but failed to do so.

"I have him now." The doctor thought. "Would you mind me joining your dinner party? It would certainly help my investigation to see you interacting."

"Why not?" Hannibal's voice sounded defeated. But as explained, we fail to keep up the keen insight to the mind when we're emotionally involved. Otherwise Chilton would have noticed the voice to be very similar to that of a spider inviting a fly into his web.

* * *

Four o' clock. Lecter castle. The halls are dark and only two rooms are lit. The great study, in which Hofttan is currently fixing up the fireplace, afterwards he'll start on the dining room. The other room is the kitchen, where two figures stand. Their shadows dancing slightly in the flames.

"Is there a specific reason you're not using meat?" The psychiatrist asked.

"The avatar is a vegetarian. I try not to offend him." Hannibal responded.

"Ah, I see."

Watching the boy delicately and precisely cutting up the vegetables, Chilton slowly became aware of the slow effect of Hannibals stinging words. Lacky, how dare he? He was a psychiatrist. A doctor! But words sting most when they contain truth and he knew this. He should have been higher up by now, instead he did the councils dirty work. But if he could pull this of, he'd have all the glory he'd need. They'd have to promote him. If he was the one who could finally finish off the credibility of the Lecter clan. Their castle could indeed be a keen location for the psychiatric institution. Close enough to the city for convenience but isolated enough, big enough, perfect. That was why he was here, to build a case. Because although he knew he had some dirt on the boy (Trying to replace his butler with his father, his denial of the tragedy's pain and the need to be in familiar surroundings.) it wasn't enough to convince the judge. That's why he had chosen to be here. But had he chosen to be here? The thought crept up to him slowly, pinching the 'Achilles heel' of a man who is sure of his success. After all, the boy didn't seem to be as nervous as before. As if he had completely gotten over the remark about his butler. Suddenly Dr. Chilton was very aware that he was surrounded by many sharp knifes.

"Do you cook often, Dr. Chilton?" The Count asked friendly. The man just shrugged and escaped his own thoughts. "I asked, are you a cooking man?"

"No not really. Never found the pleasure in it."

"I can understand. You're more of a grilling man I'm sure." Hannibal said while putting a small cube of carrot in his mouth. "A good piece of steak, grilled, alongside with some potatoes. A 'real man's meal'. Am I right?"

"I suppose. Could be."

"And it surely helps when you cook for more people. That's when I find it truly enjoyable and relaxing. Grilling is more appropriate for when you're alone. The meal feels more appropriate for solitude, does it not? Simple meals, single dish to wash. Simplicity and loneliness. Sometimes grilling's even an excuse to not-cook a complete and decent meal, so one doesn't admit to being lonely."

Dr. Chilton knew when he was being read and he didn't like it. "I'm supposed to examine you, not the other way around, boy."

"I know." He responded, pretending not to be aware. "Could you pass me the peppers, please?"

Chilton did so, reluctantly. "What's your plan by the way? Do you think you can convince the judge over me? I have a diploma… I'm a doctor!" As you notice Dr. Chilton was starting to lose his temper. The word 'lackey' kept flashing through his mind. The fact that Hannibal actually did seem sane enough to convince the judge didn't help. "I could cut you a deal, you know…" Hannibal didn't answer. "Did you hear me boy?" Hannibal moved towards a tray with knives. "What hope do you have to convince anyone over me?!" Chilton's voice had risen in anger of directing Lecter's back. "You can't convince the judge!"

Hannibal turned slowly. An ice-cold silence filled the room, and it seemed to originate from the young boy's eyes. In the calmest, darkest and well simply creepiest voice Dr. Chilton had ever heard, Hannibal spoke as candles made the shadows dance over his face. "Maybe not, but you can."

The psychiatrist watched in horror as the boy walked slowly in his direction. He found himself checking whether all the knives were still on the tray, the boy didn't have anything in his hands. Fears from before rose exponentially. He became aware that the young man's perfect choice of words and utter calmness were the scariest thing he had ever known. And by God, he had nearly reached him. He realised that he was in a room full of sharp objects. Knives and hatchets and pokes and more… Even the suits of armour at the walls seemed dangerous. The darkness seemed to envelop him. Hannibal reached the doctor and grabbed something shiny. Was it a blade? No thank heavens, it was just a spoon. He mixed the sauce slowly. However the fear for the many surrounding sharp objects remained. Chilton's eyes flashed from left to right, trying to keep an eye on all of them. Funny thing, it might be why he didn't notice Hannibal grabbing a lot of spices. He looked at the boy who had finally stopped cooking and turned his full focus to him. The young count raised his hand slowly and blew a puff of air. The 'spices' twirled around the senior's head. He inhaled. And for a few hours, that was the last conscious thing he did.

* * *

Hofttan had just covered the linen cloth over the dining table. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with five of the most prestigious porcelain plates the countess had owned. He vaguely wondered whether she'd like them being used by her son. The loss nearly was enough to make him take a break. Nearly. He had a duty to do, a duty to his last remaining lord. He wouldn't grief over those passed-on at a time like this. It is a strange and inexplicable relationship between a butler and his lords.

Dr. Chilton regained some of his senses. He was drugged. He knew this because he'd been taking some of the medicines of the psychiatric ward home with him for years. He'd always considered this one of his little guilty pleasures. Vaguely he whondered where he was. He didn't mind right now. He felt happy. Drugs were good. He liked them. To bad about the stinging pain in his legs though, he wondered. A single thought made a reasonable assumption and in his drugged state it was quite the miracle that it did. He reasoned that if he could feel it this much in a drugged state, it really had to hurt a lot. He didn't realise however that he was bound and that there was a lot of cloth in his mouth.

Hannibal finished cutting the muscles from the good doctor's legs and wrapped it in a blanket. He threw the knife into the 'bottomless' pit just behind Chilton. It took a long time falling down. He had managed to wipe most of the blood on his hands off before he heard the metallic clatter. He noticed that the man's eyes were open slightly. He put him upright and squatted in front of him. Hannibal Lecter pushed the psychiatrists chin up so that he faced him and spoke. "It's all for the best, don't you agree? This way you serve some purpose." He let go of the chin and saw the head bob down, staring at the floor. "I know you can't hear me, but I'd like to say something anyways Dr. Chilton. I even want to thank you. You see, although you were drugged I did get you to sign this document saying that you deem me sane. And of course me and my guests, well not the avatar, are most grateful for your sacrifice. So thank you, Dr. Chilton." Hannibal pondered a bit. "The term doctor does carry a lot of power, doesn't it? Authority, privilege … I see why you're so proud of it. You know, Dr. Lecter doesn't sound to bad, does it?" Chilton replied in drool. Hannibal stood upright. "Farewell." The young boy said as he placed his foot gently on the man's rump. "Mr. Chilton." And he tapped him softly but enough to make him fall over backwards into the 'bottomless' pit.

Later at dinner Toph seemed to get used to the hollowness of Hannibals words. Although she still didn't trust him completely she felt more at ease as the evening progressed. She had decided not to tell her friends for she didn't want them to worry and after all, who knew how she'd be when her family was killed? Perhaps all he needed was time.

Aang had asked him what his plans were, naturally concerned. And the young count had replied with deciding to find the people who had eaten his family to bring them to justice. Toph had sensed no lie in this, but then again everything he seemed to say was 'true'. She couldn't tell whether he lied or not. Katara had asked how he would do this. The answer was that he knew one of survivors' family-name. It was a well-known name too, from fire-nation aristocracy. And all well-off people know each other, as Hannibal and Toph could verify, even if they didn't actually know each other. A family which had been exciled from thTe fire-nation, shortly after the war, for their intolerable cruelty. He planned to visit this Verger-family to see whether they were harbouring their son. Sokka being good at heart offered to give him a lift on Appa. Toph was quick to second this. After all, she didn't quite trust his intentions yet. She wanted to make sure he didn't do something stupid. And after some more chitchat it was dinnertime.

"Wow, this looks amazing!" Katara complimented her dish as they all took place at the dining table. "Hannibal, what is this divine-looking meat?"

"I'm afraid that if I told you, you wouldn't even try it." Lecter smiled back politely. Everyone thought it was a joke. Everyone except Toph, but she laughed just a well, not to let it show. Hannibal watched how Sokka's eyes eagerly moved over his plate and decided not to torture the hungry boy anymore. "Bon appétit." He said. The clatter of cutlery went through the room. Hannibal picked up his and tenderly cut a small slice of the grilled meat, brought it to his mouth and savoured the taste. He had been right, he reflected, Chilton had been a grilling-man.

The next morning Hofttan watched the flying bison disappear over the horizon. His master on it's back. He remembered the conversation he and the count had had last night. Young master Hannibal had ordered him to safeguard the castle and handed him the document. From that moment on he knew that his suspicions about there being something off about the boy had been correct. The recent, traumatic loss had indeed changed him. It had turned him into a murderer. Hofttan knew that that Dr. Chilton was now dead. He had seen it in the boy's eyes. Every fiber of his body begged him to stop this terror, this monster. However, it was his master. The bond between a butler and his masters is inexplicable. Ever loyal and ever obedient. Not quite like family but deeper than business. Not friendship but sturdier and eternal. He'd keep his word. He'd fulfil this duty. It is a strange relationship between a butler and a master. Quite strange indeed.

* * *

**A/N: **TADAM! I hope you liked it. Might take a while 'till I post the next chapter. I hope you found some of the little references I made to the films etc.

**Please review!** (If you like this story it's also in your own best intrest to tell me what could be better or worse.)


	4. On the road again

Chapter four

I'ts been a long time, I know and I'm sorry. I'd use the excuse that my computer broke down and I forgot all about this due to it, but you're all better then that, so I'm sorry.

To be honest, it's difficult for me to continue this story, and easy to forget about it, because I find it hard. I don't know where I'm going with this and it's so easy to run from something diffucult.

So enjoy, and I'm sorry for not posting this any sooner, I'll do my best not to let it happen again.

* * *

It took him a few seconds to realise that someone had indeed completely taken off the blindfold. And if his hands weren't still tied, he'd have checked to be sure. The room was pitch-black, cold and metallic. Somewhere in the distance he could hear soft murmurs and occasional crying. Also, the distant leaking water pipe was working on his nerves. He was afraid, he couldn't deny that. But although the initial stages of fear were present, it was nothing he hadn't lived through before. It came with the job. Hard-ball was the last thing they expected you to play at a moment like this, so it would exactly be his game.

"Mr. Graham." A nearby voice let itself be noticed. "Private detective, with quite some fame to his name."

"Not a single unsolved case, as I recall." He responded to the dark.

"True, very respectful indeed." The voice replied, not unkindly.

"But a huge ego is something different, entirely! I suppose it could get in the way of finding trails." Another, deeper voice came into the picture.

"I didn't think of it that way, I was just stating facts." Graham said, defending his honour.

"Excuse him." The first voice directed at Graham. "He's just a little stressed lately. Now, Graham, you've probably already guessed that we want to hire you." The voice waited for a responding grunt. "Good, well we'd like you to investigate the disappearance of a person."

"Your employee?" The detective inquired.

A silence ensued until it was broken by another voice; this one seemed to be slightly wheezing as it spoke. "How… Why would you say that?"

"Excluding me, there are four people in here. When finding a family member it's usually done by one or two members, the parents. Finding a lover requires one person and almost never at least two males, to ask the question. Above two usually means business."

The deep voice grunted, but the first answered. "Impressive. But let's not waste any more time, shall we?" The person to whom the voice belonged lit a candle and walked past the private detective. Once behind him, he opened a small taped-off window. The sun shone through with blinding force. Graham closed his eyes momentarily.

"What are you doing?" Asked the wheezing man. "He has seen our faces!"

"Mr. Graham would have figured out who we were anyway, there's no need for anonymity. Besides I doubt he'd have accepted our word on the matter of payment instead of a legal contract if he hadn't known who we where."

"That's true." Graham said as he slowly opened his eyes.

He gazed at the four men accompanying him in this metallic cell. All were Caucasian males in dark ornamental robes who were at least above fifty years old. The wheezing character stood before him had baggy brown eyes and seemed to suffer from male pattern baldness. He was thin, worn-out and looked jumpy. Though judging by the walking stick, he wouldn't be doing much actual jumping any time soon. Graham turned his head to face the man with the bruter voice. He stood right from Mr. Wheezy McNervous. This man, a lot larger and heavyset, was also tense from being here. Though it weren't his nerves that were the problem, no he seemed to radiate the fact that he was pissed off. If Graham had to guess he'd have said he was the youngest of the four men, if only because he still had a shade of his natural black hair colour between all the grey. Graham then let his eyes trail off to the hand now resting on his left shoulder. He followed the hand, which wore a wedding ring, al the way up to the clearly expensive sleeve and eventually found a face smiling back at him. Light-heartedly the face showed it's perfect white teeth. This man, though having very short and purely grey hair seemed determined not to let old age get to his body. He wasn't as fit as Graham, who was only fresh in his thirties and worked out often. But he had still some muscles left and made a general healthy appearance. Lastly his eyes fell on the person in the far left corner of the room. This was the fourth man, the one who had yet to say a single word. He did not seem happy to be here, though he didn't seem like a very happy person in general. He seemed patient as he lit a pipe and gave an impression that stated 'it's al business'. Because he let the other three take care of things and didn't even seem to notice the man tied up in the middle of the room, he seemed the closest thing to a leader.

"But still…" Jumpy tried one last time in his futile case.

"I think we can get rid of the ropes, right Hossoun?" The friendly man's sentence was more of a statement then a question. The wheezing man became even more alert and tried to object something, but ended up mumbling something incoherent and non-understandable. The heavyset man, who apparently went by the name Hossoun, drew a knife from his pocket. It was a rather large knife, but failed to make this fact noticed because it was outshone by an even bigger hand.

When the ropes were cut, Hossoun returned to his former place and the friendly man took the centre place between the two collegues, he gave the detective a few moments to rub his burning wrists before continuing. "I do apologize for this hasty and crude way of introducing ourselves."

"Not to mention, poorly executed…" Graham added. After a grunt from Hossoun he gave a pleasant smile.

"Yes, that too." The friendly one continued. "But we couldn't exactly agree on the fact whether or not we would give away our identity. Anyway, we have a job for you. Our employee, or rather former employee needs to be tracked down. He disappeared about four days ago, we'll give you all the data the officials have dug up."

The jumpy man seemed even more nervous as he bend over and handed some papers to the man in the chair. "His name is … uh … Dr. Chilton. … Frederick I believe, hm yes… uhm … all the information is in there."

"Yeah, thanks. I got it." Graham said patronizingly.

"But, to give you an idea of the current situation. He disappeared four days ago. He left a letter of resignation, and the officials found no reason to suspect foul play." The middle-man said. "But nobody saw him leave."

"And you do suspect something happened to him? Why exactly?"

"Well, this job meant a lot to him. He was really enthusiastic about it, and always tried to climb higher."

"He was an egocentric bastard who kissed ass and sucked up to people to get higher in the ranks." The heavyset man explained bluntly. This earned a rare reaction from the leader; a nod in agreement. "He wouldn't leave when he was so close to the top."

"Judging by these cells you're not the staff of a regular hospital, are you now? I suppose this is the madhouse? And you are the directors?" Graham assumed correctly. They nodded in agreement. "So what was he working on?" When they didn't reply he continued. "Look, it's obvious you don't want a pushy and manipulative employee back so bad that you'd hire me. He's not the real target, it's the information he's got."

"… He was working on a, uh … case about the … uhm … Lecter family." The old coffer conceded.

"The Count's family? I knew they were eccentric, but insane? That's quite a leap there."

"Well, it's not been, uh, proven yet that they are … uh, insane."

"They disappeared during the siege of the rebel army. Just five days ago Hannibal, the son, has believed to have returned. He was apparently hospitalized." Hossoun offered grumpily. "Though they never officially met. He made no notes, documents or anything of such an occasion."

"But we think they actually met." The friendly man added.

"What does the boy have to say about it?" Graham inquired.

"He apparently also went missing four days ago. Well, not missing. He left town, according to his butler."

"I see, and what exactly do you have to gain if he turns out to be insane?"

"That's none of your concern." The bulky man responded quickly. "Do you accept?"

The middle man handed Graham a contract. He looked at the fee and nodded in approval. "So are we done here then?" The middle man asked the leader, looking over his own shoulder. The leader gave one small nod, a nod that seemed to drain a lot of his stamina. He inhaled from his pipe and moved his head sideways in a gesture for everybody to get out. Graham stood up and followed the three men who were disappearing into the hallway. He was stopped however by the silent man, who remained at the door. He was slightly taller then Graham, which didn't mean much seeing as Graham was about a head short of average height, and thus bended over when he whispered. And that whisper! His voice was as cold as a December night on a frozen lake. It made your hairs stand up right as you knew that taking in his words or not, was the difference between living in fear or living in perpetual suffering and torment. "Mr. Graham." He said, catching his attention. "I do not think a 13-year old boy is a murderer here, and I doubt you do. Whatever made Dr. Chilton leave, obviously had an effect on the poor boy." He looked Graham sternly in the eyes. "When you talk to him, as an impartial and educated party, it would be very beneficial for us if you reported any signs of such effect, rendering him incapable to make decisions on his own behalf." He waited a few seconds. "It could be very beneficial for you as well."

It took Graham a few seconds to respond. "… You'll get my report, but I'm not here to make up lies, I'm here to uncover them."

* * *

Sokka the young but respectable warrior stood at the cliff's end, with a forest to his back he was gazing into the far horizon. Two things went through his head, the first were thoughts of his love and the other was 'Damn, that's a lot of water in this ocean.'

The island the Gaang landed on was right on the border between the fire nation and the earth kingdom. Sokka had promised to see this errand through, but was looking forward to its end. He had nothing against Hannibal, and even liked the fact that he joined the group, seeing as he's cooking was preferable to Katara's. But more then anything did he want to return to Kyoshi Island. It was there that his girl waited for him.

After the official end of the 'Great War', they had spent a few joyful weeks together. Now that they were no longer being hunt down, they finally had some time to relax and enjoy their hard work. The rebel problem seemed distant and hardly worth the energy to put an end to it. Zuko, firelord of a new kind of fire nation did his best to ensure the movement's immediate halt. He deemed it the fire nation's responsibility and was convinced that, in order to show a positive signal to the water tribes and the earth kingdom, it had to be the fire nation that put an end to this. After a few weeks however, he found himself asking for the avatar's help.

As soon as the gang was informed of the true extend of the current situation, they were more then willing to give up their well-earned vacation. For Sokka however, it came at a price. A few days before their 'enlistment' he and Suki had talked about their future. The Kyoshi warriors had been away from home for quite some time and were thus anxious to return. Suki was no exception. After some discussions, some more arguing and an equal amount of making up, Sokka had decided to join her. He'd miss his family and friends, the travelling and the crazy adventures, but he just couldn't live without her any more. And how long would this bubble last, anyway? Nonetheless he felt bad about being the first to leave.

He looked for the right way to mention it to his companions, he needed to be delicate, and that wasn't his forte. So when Zuko came to them for help, he saw it as a great opportunity. After some discussions, some more arguing and astonishingly less making up, Sokka convinced Suki. He'd go on one last quest, during which he'd be able to properly say goodbye to his friends. Suki was an understanding person and therefore, although fearing he wouldn't come back or even that he wouldn't want to come back, she understood his need to do this.

At first the journey felt liberating. So much in fact, that he had at some rare moments contemplated to refuse moving to Kyoshi. Though almost immediately thereafter he'd feel ashamed to let such an idea cross his mind. But the longer the road became, the more he longed for the starting line, knowing fully well the finish could still be a long ways away. Meanwhile, he didn't want to tell his friends that he'd be leaving soon.

"Your thinking about her again, aren't you?" A voice broke his concentration.

"Yeah." He said, without looking back. Though there was no reason to, it wouldn't have helped to lie to her anyway. "That obvious?"

"Hey, if even I can see it, it has to be, right?" Sokka snorted at hearing this remark. "So, there's something on your mind?"

"You know, it's real hard if you have to talk to someone and you can't lie. It's unnatural."

"I call it useful. I get answers no matter how much people try to deny things. I could uncover all the conspiracy theories; check up whether governments are telling the truth and everything else. The people should worship me like a goddess, I can bring them the truth." Toph spoke with a voice reminding Sokka of her short-lived career as the melon lord. He appreciated her attempt at lighting his mood.

"Yeah." He started his joke. "Just one problem though…" He turned to face her.

"What's that?"

"Who the hell would trust you, 'runaway'?" They laughed though they felt the full weight of the pending conversation.

"So, tell me what's wrong Mr. Fire."

"I think I should tell Katara first." He said. "It's something difficult. And she deserves to know first."

He walked past Toph. She turned and hugged him. "We'll miss you Snoozles."

He didn't move. They stood still as the wind passed them, on the cliff watching over the sun setting in the ocean. "You knew?" He eventually managed to whisper.

"Hey, I know you captain boomerang."

"And Katara, and Aang?"

"I think they know too."

"Why didn't you guys say anything?" Sokka was fighting back a tear.

"Why didn't you?" After a long silence she continued. "On some level, I think we all knew. Not just you leaving, but that times change, and that we won't be travelling the world together on a bison 'till we're all old people."

"I guess we just… wanted the illusion to last a little longer."

"Yeah…" Sokka hugged her back and they let it last for a while. "I think that if it hurts you this much, you should go to her Sokka."

"But I still promised Hannibal that…" That's how far he got until he was cut off by Toph.

"There's always going to be something else. There's always another door, another option. I don't want you to go either, but it's what you have to do. You can take a boat from the harbour from the town here."

"Yeah, Sokka, I hate to be parted from family, but I know the pull of destiny." Aang said, walking out the nearby forest. Next to him was Katara, she just had tears in her eyes.

Part of being a group, is participating in group hugs and they made this one last. They thought it would be months till they'd be reunited, little did they know it' would only be about two weeks. In two weeks Sokka would be running back, begging for his friend Aang's ability to enter the spirit world, begging for his help to end a no longer silent observer.

* * *

That night at the camp-fire, the group of youngsters enjoyed their last hours together. When things quieted down a bit Toph seated herself next to Hannibal, who was gazing into the fire, his eyes moving even less then hers. Sokka, Aang and Katara were a bit further ahead, playing with Appa and Momo.

"I know you were there at the cliff too." She said. He didn't reply. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It seemed like you guys needed a moment to yourselves. It would have been quite … disrespectful of me to barge in." He responded calmly.

"Well then, thanks."

"Your quite welcome." When a silence fell upon them and lasted for long minutes which seemed like hours, Hannibal was eventually the one to break it. "Sokka wasn't the only one who had something to say, today. Am I right."

"Yes."

"You're worried about me."

"Yes."

"You've noticed my masquerade."

"Yes."

"You think I'm not doing well."

"Are you?"

"You even fear that I am dangerous."

"…"

"Do you think I would hurt anyone?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, but I don't know. I just can't tell."

"Do you think I'd hurt myself?"

"I think you might lose yourself."

"… You say you can't tell. I suppose you've always been able to tell whether people are lying or not?" She nodded. "Then, how have you learned to trust?" She opened her mouth to answer but couldn't. "You haven't Toph. It's what always separates you from everyone else. You've wondered about it yourself, late at night, thinking about the illusive jigsaw piece missing in the puzzle of social interaction. You've blamed it on your parents, you've blamed it on others and you've blamed it on yourself. But the nature of this problem isn't as simple as a single sided reason. And the answer requires a leap of faith. You've never trusted anyone, Toph. But you can start with me."

This replies boldness shocked Toph momentarily. Eventually she came up with a retort. "You see a lot of things, Hannibal. But are you capable of turning that high perception at yourself? Or are you afraid to?" When he didn't reply she continued. "You want me to trust you? Then fine, tell me, are you planning to hurt whoever did that to your family."

"No."

"And I'll just have to take your word for it? That's how it goes?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

* * *

A/N I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to god inspiration will strike me soon.

R&R - It'd be nice, I'm just sayin...


	5. Inner Thoughts

I know it's a little late for that, but HAPPY NEW-YEAR. Unless of course you live by another celestial calender, and then still I wish you a happy new-year come your appropriate time.

But all political-correctness aside. All I hope for is that you enjoy this chapter, it took me long enough, a lot of characters need a lot of text. More info down below.

P.S.: **Grey91**, I can't believe I forgot her name! But yeah, a little bit...

Read and Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5: Inner thoughts**

Dreams are an exquisite thing. People often think they consist of memories. People are often wrong, or at least incomplete. Dreams create memories, alter them. They twitch and pick ever so slightly that when you wake up, you can't tell the difference. Dreams are a part of nature, a part of us. It shows who we really are, and it shows this only to us. And if you know where to look in the dream, it can show you the future as well.

And, ah, what a night it was. One night away from arriving at the island home to the dishonored Verger family, the gaang, apart from Sokka, camped at the rim of an old forest. There were no clouds and the air was cold. But as the group crawled around the warm fire, they cared not. Who could? With such a beautiful night like this. All the stars seemed to shine brighter then ever. But they all came short in comparison to the diamond in the sky. The moon, enchanting and elegant, was completely full.

As she dosed off, Katara could feel the power of the moon, rushing through her vanes. It filled her with energy. Her breath was deep as if it tried to take in the atmosphere. She was in a forest, much like the one they camped near. Somehow it was familiar but she couldn't put her finger on the reason as to why this was. Nor could she remember getting here. The thought however, dispersed sooner then the meat on Sokka's plate. Something distracted her. It was a sound. The fact that it seemed to resonate from all around her didn't strike her as strange and somehow she knew exactly where to look.

A bush a few yards away shook almost playfully. Katara became aware that the noise made another appearance. This time she distinguished it as a joyous laughter. A little blue flash shot from the bushes into the forest. "Hey, wait!" Katara yelled. Her feet were already moving before she realized it. The laughing continued and the shade got further and further away, no matter how fast she ran. She pleaded for it to stop, even when it was no longer in sight.

Katara slowed her pace. Where had the small figure led her? All around her, everything was forest. No, not really forest. She saw trees around her, surrounding her. There was grass under her feet and a few bushes nearby, but beyond it. Beyond it lay a void of pure darkness. She looked up, it was the same. There were no stars, there was no moon. She felt powerless. There was something wrong about this place, she knew it.

Suddenly she moved without wanting to. As if her legs had a mind of their own. Walking past the last trees, walking on pure nothing. She wanted to look back, search for an exit, but her neck wouldn't turn. She continued and lost track of time. It seemed like days of being consumed by in-existence. The shock from going from all-mighty to powerless, meaningless was relentlessly pressing on her mind.

Suddenly, as if in a dream, a light appeared in the darkness. Distant, but nearing. Every footstep brought her closer. Though her heart was filled with joy of the illumination she felt a new terror rising. Her body, still moving as if on it's own accord, headed straight for it. This wasn't just mindless wandering anymore, this had a goal. The bright spot, now close enough to distinguish it's shapes, was ominous looking. Not by nature, for it was a beautiful green field with plenty of flowers, clouds, beautiful skies and an adoring lake. No, it was ominous but by pressure. The tension was highly strung and pressed a dark feeling into the mind.

The tension left her body and joined the rest hanging in the air. She felt she could move freely, but knew she could not leave. Katara could feel something calling her, the lake, her element. The blue flare from before. It stood by the waterside. She now noticed it to be a child, a very familiar one at that. Though his back was facing her, she'd recognize her brother anywhere, even if he was a toddler again for some odd reason. Suddenly she was only a few paces behind him. "Sokka." She called to him. "I'm not sure we should be here."

"Is it beautiful?" The shape of the water-tribe warrior asked without looking back.

She assumed he was talking about the lake. "Yes, it is. But this place, it feels wrong." As a matter of fact, it felt increasingly wrong. Like the squirrel-deer feels the approach of the Eaglion. "Sokka we have to move!" Her voice was desperate. How could she snap her brother out of this trance? She placed her hand on his shoulder, ready to turn him around and smack him on the face, to break his state of mind. But he faced her and he didn't face her. She jumped back in agony and fear. There was nothing on his face, no eyes, no nose, no expression... nothing. Suddenly she was under control again.

As she turned without wanting to, she closed her eyes. Not willfully they were quickly reopened. The eyes she stared in were old and familiar. They belonged to an ancient figure, gray and ravished by time and yet surging with power. Hama didn't say a word. Instead she trusted her hand and sent Katara flying over the lake. She braced for impact as she saw the water near. In the last fraction before she hit the body of water, the image of her reflection surprised her. After all, it was Zuko who wore the scar, not her.

The lake engulfed her. Dragging her deeper and deeper. Unable to bend, unable to move she held her breath as she sank deeper and deeper. When she hit the bottom there was darkness, nearly all around her. But from above descended a figure. She feared it was Hama and tried to swim away. As she pushed herself up, she realized three things. First she moved by herself, second she wasn't under water anymore and third, the shape was Yue. And it spoke to her. The moon spoke to her. It warned her. Begged her to be careful.

Katara woke up. The past dream was now just shards in a disorganized mind shocked out of it's rest. She sat upright and felt scared but did not know why. The round orb in the sky was complete and shone with all it's might. But it didn't reassure her for some alien reason. If only she could remember.

* * *

Sokka dreamt too, of his love, nearing. The freighter was populated by rough sea dogs and the smell was horrible. It was hard to tell whether the nauseating scent came from the cargo or from the crew. However, whatever the cargo was, it was soft, like a bed. Just like what he was using it for. The boat went up and down, the waves rocking it back and forth. The same motion that mere days ago caused him to vomit now soothed him to sleep. The crew walked the deck, their paces faded slowly. One last glimpse before his eyes closed; The full moon printed itself on his subconsciousness.

It was shining too in his dream as he waltzed with Suki on a giant pai sho board. He loved holding her, but something about the light he saw her in made him feel guilty. He felt like he was betraying someone, someone special. The pieces on the board were moving as of their own. More then once they came close to crushing them. But the dance, his leading, always avoided them at the last moment. She felt safe in his arms, he could tell.

The light of the moon faded steadily and the feeling of guilt grew smaller. But in the darkness he felt vulnerable. The darkness ingulfed the dancing pair. The moving tiles were nowhere to be seen, there was no way to avoid them. The game, life itself controlled by great forces, could now crush them easily. He held Suki tight, desperatly trying to protect her. Her face was now only vaguely visible. With her arms she embraced him too, but there were more then one pair. Her face watched him without expression. Something was wrong. He felt more and more arms, her shape turned broad, rough and cold. He stared in her eyes, frightened, though they weren't exactly her eyes. It wasn't her face. There were to many of them to be hers. Her arms held him tight as he tried to push himself free. Sokka did his best to get away from the void with a thousand faces. He couldn't.

Sokka shot up from the soft cargo on the ship. The scare still shaking his body. The young man shivered as he walked the deck. When he arrived at the bow of the boat he looked over the water. And somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waiting for him stood his love on golden sand. The horizon melted into the ocean, not even the bright moon's light could show where sky ended and water began. Vaguely he wondered whether he'd ever see Yue again. Sokka turned around and did.

She said one thing 'You must hurry!'. The next thing he knew he sat upright on the cargo, this time truly awake. The watertribe warrior knew one thing, a gut feeling, it told him the boat wasn't going fast enough.

* * *

A few miles away from Sokka's ship was another, smaller, faster boat. This one went nearly the opposite direction. The only people on it were a four headed crew and one passenger, Graham. At this very moment, just like Sokka, he was awake and looking over the ocean. And just like Sokka he was wondering about a dream, be it not such a spiritual one. His dream had practically been the memories of his interview with the butler and his choice to follow the avatar. It was most likely where he'd find the Hannibal boy.

The case was strange one and he didn't believe a single word of the facade it seemingly wore. Graham tried to rely on the shattered memories of his past dream. This was a risky thing to do as he knew the dangers of misinterpreting a dream. Graham knew how your mind changed your views as you slept. In a way he despised this, his mind had no right to do this without him being aware, but on the other hand he knew it to be one of his greatest strengths. If anything was his forte, if anything made him a great detective, it was his imagination. He hated it and needed it. Above all he feared it. And right now, it was hovering on his conversation with the butler. Mere parts were all that remained, this late and so tired; it was all he could recall.

He remembered Lecter castle as he walked towards it. It looked ominous in his mind. Only visible due to it being darker than the night surrounding the outlining. His dream had shown stormy weather, thunder-flashes and the nearby howling and growling of creatures. They were not to be seen, but their presence was there. In fact his walk towards the Lecter estate had been a quite pleasant one, and he knew this much. So why did it come to him in this form? Why did this all make him think of a lone dark night, the end of an era and a scary story fit for a bad play? Was it because the boy could never call that place home again without the people to make it one? But it wasn't just that, the entire atmosphere had been so hostile. What did it mean?

The butler, Graham's memories placed him in a suit of armor, guarding the castle, guarding the palace. Like a stoic figure from tales of old. The man was old, the detective knew this, but yet in his dream he seemed not to be. He knew something, had seen something. As diligent and able as he was in his orders, it was a broken man. His face didn't show it, but his soul did. As through a freak-event the knight was now guarding the dragon.

The conversation had been quite fruitless, the old bugger didn't release a single word that he hadn't to the officials. He was sure that if he had had the time and resources he'd found more clues at the castle, he had neither. Chilton was dead, this Graham knew. That meant serious fucking business. And the man had died because of his work on the last case. This was Graham's gut-feeling talking, it just had to be, there was no question. Serious fucking business.

There were two options, two ways this could turn out. Either the boy was running for his life, scared and intimidated by what he'd seen or what someone had threatened to do to him. Graham didn't put the possibility aside that it had been his employers. They certainly wanted him to be insane, was this a part of their ploy? Was employing him just another part of their scheme, to make themselves seem innocent? And the second best thing might be to keep the boy far away forever. Unnecessarily complicated and a strange angle at the matter, but not impossible. Keep in mind their attempted fail-safe in case, spirits forbid, he actually found the boy. Alas, Graham didn't take bribes.

The second possibility should be cast aside. At least that's what Graham tried to tell himself. Though it wouldn't be the first time, he really didn't want anything like that to be true. He really wished that he wasn't chasing a murdering young boy right now.

But until he got there, by the sightings of the avatar, the only lead he had left right now, it didn't matter. He was just stuck in endless plains of water, with only his clothes and the documents on the suspect and victim as possessions. But more importantly there were dreams, imagination and memories as viable companions. (You just try talking to sailors with a vocabulary of fifty non-swear words.) And in their free time these constantly relocated, trying to find the angle on that Lecter lad.

* * *

Liable Lecter Lad Lied Lifeless. And yet his mind was in overdrive. It always was, even before the incident. The incident. The incident. The incident! The Incident! The INCIDENT! THE DAMN INCIDENT!

Even though in his cool exterior it never arose, it dominated the interior of his home. And what a travesty this all was. But if he could control everything about his behavior so well, then why was it that the minute he closed his eyes it beat at him with a hammer? Still, if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was those barbaric actions, he despised them. It made people seem rude and he hated rude people. And if THEY couldn't keep their actions under control then THEY stood in the way of society. Don't tell him it couldn't be done, he was the living proof. The rudeness, so uncalled for, he wouldn't stand for it. HE WOULDN'T!

Let it be, in his perfect surroundings, in his world, in his image that none of this barbarianism could be.

Were it so easy...

His dreams, ever taunting, prodded his mind endlessly, mingling with memories. He was playing with Mischa. Times had been hard in the cabin. The cold, the rationing, the hard work. It was all so demeaning for such a noble family. But no matter how difficult life was, he was determined not to let Mischa feel it. She was his sister, his little sister. She shouldn't feel the agony, she ought to enjoy her childhood, even if he couldn't enjoy his. That meant to seize every opportunity to have fun. Fresh snow had fallen. His father, the count, had been quite worried this morning, so it was extra convenient to have a reason to leave the cabin. Arguing parents or snowy-fun, not a tough choice.

Hannibal build a snowman while his sister ran around in the snow. He watched over her as she laughed and played. Occasionally she'd walk over to him and admire the figure he was creating. It wasn't the best snowman ever, but she thought it was great. That made it worth wile. It made him proud.

Then something extraordinary happened. Poof. The white stuff hit the back of his head and shattered. A snowball? A snowball! Laughter! He turned and saw the little Mischa laughing and pointing. Hannibal chose to form a smile on his face, for her. With the necessary and very skillfully acted drama and flair he grabbed a handful of snow and chased after her. She ran away in adrenaline and excitement. She was scared and happy at the same time.

So much like a pretend-monster he chased her with long big steps. But suddenly, from the corner of his eye a red shape caught his attention. Three seconds long he stood there, turned towards it. In the sky, a balloon. A great red war-balloon. Thick smoke leaving it from the sides as it hurled towards the ground. The fire-nation symbol as well as another one he couldn't place quite visible. He could hear his parents shouting, they were outside as well, calling him and his sister. From that moment on, he was the one running in fear. Actual fear wasn't something he often suffered from. Hannibal couldn't even remember the last time. But his sister, his sister was out there! He tried to get Mischa, to have her safe, but then the balloon crashed. The explosion sent debris all over the place, as well as a shock from the impact. Hannibal blacked out.

Boy Lecter found himself lying on the ground, the snow around him indicated he had been bleeding. As he lifted himself on one arm he took in the surroundings. Mischa sat crying by her parents, begging them to wake up. If only they could. Hannibal tried to get up but sagged to the ground once more. After what seemed like a long time he managed to crawl towards his snowman and pull himself up. The smiling figure was now drenched in his own blood. Each step he took made him want to die, each step he took made him want to fall and give up. They sent surges of unimaginable pain throughout his body. But he had to reach his sister. He did, at long last and found her still crying as he tried to find the strength to lift her. His parents had been unlucky enough to have been in the way of rubble flying from the nearby crash. The same explosion that had knocked him out. The boy didn't want to leave his parents there but had no choice. He heard howling, wolffoxes were near. As he dragged away his screaming and kicking younger sister and later saw the animals feast on his parents he hoped none had survived the crash or that the wolffoxes would at least keep them away.

A fire-bolt that melted his snowbloodman proved he was wrong. THEY had arrived.

Hannibal opened his eyes. He was at the camp again. He was safe. His heart-rate never rose but he allowed himself a deep long breath. Then, with a matter-of-fact-ly voice, he spoke. "My dear Toph, what has you up this late at night?"

"I couldn't sleep." She said as she got up from the ground. "Your not the only one, you know."

"Oh, no I did sleep for a few hours." Hannibal said.

"No, I meant having nightmares. Katara woke up from one a few hours ago." Toph explained.

"Oh." Spoke the boy.

"Hannibal, earlier you asked me to trust you. And I will. I do." The girl spoke. "But in return you need to be honest with me."

"By all means, that's what a trusting relation implies." The count assured.

"Then tell me. You're not fine, are you?" She inquired. "It's ok not to be, frankly I'd be shocked if you were. But I need you to say it. I need hear it, but so do you. You have to admit it to yourself. Your family just died, and you're evennot talking about it, not showing any emotion about it. Just say it, there's no shame."

"Fine." He said and smirked. "I guess I'm not fine."

"Thank you." Toph sincerely said.

Between them lay Aang, and right in the middle of this moment he bolted upright. Without looking at either one of his companions he spoke. "I think Roku just warned me."

* * *

**A/N** I finally figured out half the path I'm going to take on this story. Alas, school, life, stuff, you know, it keeps you busy.

Not to blackmail here, just stating a fact, reviews have always got me going on this story. They encourage you know, it makes you "keep on keepin' on" as not to let someone down and shows that the story (and the wasted accompanying hours) isn't for nothing.

So, Ciao

R&R&E


	6. All roads lead to Rome

It would seem that my motivation to write this story is always picked up right after receiving a review or watching one of the movies (or seeing a part of it on TV). I really hope my workload and need for a social life will allow me a bit of time for the next chapter. But hey, that's worries for later right? How 'bout you first try to get through this chapter... I had the longest time in writing this bugger. Weird though, it isn't the longest chapter of the bunch, I think.

Anyhow enjoy: "Chapter 6: All roads lead to Rome"

* * *

Katara pulled the reins with all her might. It was her first turn in a few weeks and it was... different. She knew Appa, and he shouldn't be acting like this. The big sky-bison had never put up a struggle, he knew his riders and had confidence in them. Aang had said something about this, he'd noticed it as well. And now, for the first time Katara felt it. Really felt it. One can't go through all those adventures without making a bond strong enough to notice something like this. One can't feel all that and then, when guiding the friend, not pick up on something so off. No doubt, Appa was afraid. Spooked for some reason, had been for days. The strong, heavy, giant beast was on edge and it made it hard to keep him in control. Katara wished she knew what had spooked him, and scared him still for such a long time.

Too bad she couldn't make the obvious connection. But I guess that's the thing about actors. The greatest aren't those you find on the stage, it's those you think you know. And while mankind is a creature build to see the truth within the lie, raised to see the society and it's interactions as truth, it's not taught to see the lie within the truth within the lie. Appa, a sky-bison, an animal (an intelligent one, don't get me wrong) was not blinded by the pretense of human-interaction. As a beast accepting nature in all that it is and isn't, he could see what didn't fit there. And one of the travelers had certainly stopped viewing the truth within the lie. One can act one's actions, pretend one's feelings and create one's life, but the soul is a core one can not mask.

Still, Katara wished Aang could handle Appa, but he had troubles of his own. When he woke from his vision last night and found both Hannibal as well as Toph up, he decided to wake up her as well. Being interrupted for a second time in one night, during her REM-cycle didn't add to her mood. It did add to her fatigue right now however, which made it increasingly difficult for her to keep Appa under control.

Now, if it had done any good to wake her, she could have understood but Aang didn't have anything useful to say. The vision itself had been blurry, faint and seemed weak. This was something pretty unusual. After informing his companions with the little knowledge he had, he immediately tried to enter the spirit-world by means of meditation. It took him half an hour filled with rising agony and frustration before he gave up. He just couldn't reach through. As if the vision of the distress hadn't been enough, the feeling of being powerless built up to the point that his nerves were strung to the maximum. Reluctantly he had to face it and it made him cross. As his anger flowed when he lied down on the ground. Katara had crawled next to him, sneaked him a kiss and whispered that it would be okay. She'd said that all he needed was some rest.

It hadn't been so. At the front edge of the saddle sat Aang, his back facing Katara. He'd focused, forced himself and tried it by relaxing but he just didn't get that breakthrough. The wind rushed over his bald head.

'At least Hannibal was right' He pondered. 'Flying does help. The wind... I'm in my element, it's relaxing me."

Of course they had to keep on going. Hannibal hadn't asked, but the group couldn't help but complete their promise. He hadn't even asked, which somehow made it even more compulsory. And Aang could try to meditate anywhere, even while flying towards the home on the island of the dishonored Verger family.

The avatar ignored Momo tugging at his shirt. Momo who had been very clingy lately didn't want to leave his side. Aang had tried to shoo him away toward Toph and Hannibal. But something about that idea seemed to upset the little creature. Once again Aang sighed, softly pushed his little pet aside and took a deep breath. He tried to focus but felt truly frustrated when he couldn't make the bridge.

Though he enjoyed the silence, Hannibal felt like something was asked of him. He spoke softly, not only due to the wind howling as the rushed through the skies, but because he chose to as well.

"Does he do that often?" Hannibal asked, referring to the bald monk trying to get in to a trance.

"He does." Toph replied. In her voice was a distinct tone of disapproval. Not directed at her bald friend, mind you.

Hannibal picked up the slightest flicker of any emotion. He could read people. Toph was a very special soul, and her historical social handicap had left her a bit hard to read. Combine this with the lack expression she had on her face and even Freud could have been left in the dark. But who could ignore such bitterness and vigor reduced into a bite-sized sentence? "He's not very good at it, is he?" For a faint second he felt a vibe of amusement originating from the girl next to him. Perhaps even a twitch in the lips, trying to form a smile. He contemplated on acting on it, digging deeper, to open her up. People were vulnerable when they opened up. Hannibal didn't feel the need to harm her, or any of his new 'friends'. But control was an important thing, it meant safety, it meant survival. Alas, she wouldn't buy it, he knew. And in the danger of her so close to seeing what he truly was, it couldn't be risked. Ah, 'seeing', the irony of it all. Instead he just took the small victory and let it be.

Besides, Hannibal had bigger things on his ever-calculating mind. The Verger-island was mere tens of miles away. Ever since his escape from the cottage he'd had three en-sigma's on his mind; The fire-nation emblem, the strange sign he'd seen all of the soldiers wear and the amulet of the captain of the squadron of monsters. A giant dragon in a circle of flames with 'Destiny' inscribed, the sign of the Verger family.

The story of the Verger clan could be told as a dramatic, political and nonetheless interesting tale of honor, duty, demise through greed and lust and finally of a story of penance. One could describe with enthusiasm the intrigues that took place between the Duke Verger and the concubines of the old fire-lord Azaw. One could portray the massacre of 'Sae Shu' as a glorious victory in wars of old, led by a general and forefather of the current relatives. One could even portray their crude practices as a necessary form of evil to uphold order and civilization. Though sane people would look upon their history and know it was a fucked up, cancerous branch in the tree of humanity. Over the years and generations their treachery, deceit, blood-lust and sadistic ways had grown deeper and deeper into the clan. Burrowed deep inside the children and awoken by the parents. Reputation and the need to keep the bloodline 'pure' tend to do that over an extended period of time.

In his heart, or whatever he had, Hannibal knew he was of noble blood. He also realized that this didn't mean anything in particular and it sure as hell wasn't his idea of a standard to measure someone's worth by. Truly he found that the only reason why most people of noble blood chose to clung to this as a valid point for heightening their status, was that they had nothing else. This included his dearly departed 'mom and dad', whom he'd loved in his own way but had been, let's face it, pretentious voids. Where was the justice in being important just because you were born to? People should go and make their own legacy, their own reasons to be loved, adored, hated and feared. He sure as hell would. Which was not to say that he wasn't grateful for his upbringing. The sophisticated and delicate childhood he'd grown up in had been the perfect place to acquire and develop his appreciation for the finer and smaller things in life. It had trimmed his senses to perfectly admire perfection. He loathed ordinary people that lacked any spot of class. People that could change diapers and eat after without washing hands, without even thinking about it. People that could be served a Chateaux Lecter and swallow it down as if it were moonshine. People that could listen to the music but not the reason for the music. These were people that didn't live. These were people that technically couldn't die. And sadly, they were the major part of the known civilization. However, that had nothing to do with which family you were born in. And if there was one thing Hannibal hated more then these poor dullards that droned through life without imagination or any real fun, it was those that thought they had the spot the class, but didn't. It was them, those who, in their self-delusion, seemed to think they were any better than the average sap on the street, while actually they didn't deserve to think like that. Did that make him a hypocrite? Maybe. But as he remembered feeding his new 'friends' good old Dr. Chilton, he no longer cared. Because all that they did, was hurt people that didn't deserve it. Hurt people like Mischa.

Would he find the good captain on the island? Drinking and ... eating? Feasting and gnawing the meat from the bone? Hannibal had his doubts. The man had been captain, that required brains. It would be foolish to return now, so soon. Hiding would be better, seeing his known status to fire-nation. The heir of the Verger throne, writing another dark page in the history of the family. But he had to go there and see what he could find. Something, anything to get a lead. Hannibal never admitted to being stuck, but he couldn't see any other path right now.

The mind can be a great sanctuary. It can also, however, spry worries and distress. Hannibal was therefor particularly happy to see the coast of the island appear and grow exponentially. Soon... oh yes.

* * *

The 'brave and mighty' Sokka took a leap of faith and landed on the docks. He sagged through his knees and looked up. Kyoshi-island had never looked so beautiful. The nightmares from days past dispersed from his mind for a brief moment. The young man threw himself upright and stretched his legs. You couldn't call him a pansy when it came to sailing, but firm land was a nice change of pace. As he looked back to the rowers he bid them farewell and thanked them for their effort. A split second later, however, he had his full focus on the task at hand. He had to find find Suki, no question at that. As he walked away from the harbor, towards the town that idea kept flashing through his mind. He had to find Suki. While he was at it, perhaps he could find some lunch as well. No. Stay focused! Suki was the more important missing element, no matter how hungry he was.

Kyoshi island sure was pretty though. It always amazed him how this small island could fill his young heart with hope. The town where he got his first kiss... fond memories like that tend to do such a thing. Even on the long journeys he'd had, the cold nights, the terrible dangers, this place had always been been able to light the way. Just the thought of these pure woods, the majestic giant Koy-fish and the birth-town of Suki... it was enough to keep him happy. The remnant thoughts of the great buffet they served in Aang's honor didn't harm either. Damn! No food. Suki, not food! Suki's town, Suki's forests, fond memories, a kiss, keep on the path to her, wrap her in your arms, ... You'll see, it was just a nightmare. Rush! Run, run into her arms and she into yours. Kiss, like before, the first time in months. The touch of her perfectly shaped lips, the scent of her soft hair, the glitter in her eyes you see when you admire her while you know she loves you, the sound of her voice speaking the true love. Sokka found himself running towards the town, leaving the beach behind him, growing smaller and smaller, disappearing behind the trees.

The town-square was dead-silent, which seemed unusual for this time around. Noon should be the most busy time of the day. Something was wrong, he knew it. But did he know? To be honest, he'd only been here twice and the first time he'd also thought his compadres and him were alone until he got jumped by the Kyoshi-warriors. So there were two options as he saw it now. Either he was being tricked by Suki and her friends in a reminiscent joke or, and unfortunately this was the more logical option, something bad had happened. The bad feeling in his gut suddenly grew exponentially. He was shaking as he walked towards the dojo of the female warriors. The bad something had something to do with her, he knew it.

The door of the old building slid open. The heavy sound of the rolling wood cracked ominously. He didn't have to open it all the way to know she wasn't there. No-one was. Desperate for clues, he stepped inside nonetheless. This place wasn't right without hem. It was supposed to be filled with life. Not this, this cold feeling of death lingering on. Silently and cautiously, as afraid to disturb calm in the building, he crept towards the far-side wall. In a box lay some of the outfits he'd come to love. From the box he grabbed a single fan. It slid open an the young tribal warrior admired it's simple beauty. Sokka felt alone and wanted someone, anyone, beside him right now. It doesn't happen often (definitely not if you're Sokka), but sometimes you get your wish.

"Sokka?" It was a familiar feminine voice, spoken behind him and for the shortest of a moment his heart fluttered. But as he turned around he saw it was not her. It was _her,_ standing by the entrance. To see that face do anything but smile was a strange experience. Let alone to see the despair in her eyes. They brightened up a bit as she realized he was indeed her old time friend and foe. "Sokka! It is you!" Ty lee yelled right before doing a 'dubble-salto-handstand-deluxe' and halting right in front of the boy. Next thing he knew she flung her arms around him and nearly hugged the life out of him. "I'm so glad you guys are here, now everything going to be alright." She broke the hug and he gently pushed her away. "Where's the rest of your friends?" Upon realizing, by the sight of his uncertain eyes, she desperately tried to undo her own panic to reassure him. "Not, that you're not enough, I mean. I'm sure we can handle it just fine. I just meant... that, you know, ... uhm. I'll help you Sokka. We'll get her back, I promise." And as a final act she embraced him again, this time to comfort him instead of herself.

Sokka didn't fight her hug. Merely, he closed his eyes and sighed. "What happened to her?"

"We're still not really certain what exactly happened." The old leader of Kyoshi island spoke as he poured the young guest some hot yin-seng tea. "It was the night of the last full moon. It was last night, you know, when it happened." The man's eyes stared off in the distance as he sat down. "I've always known how to handle things on this island. These shores have rarely ever seen war. But something happened, and it happened so quick, so efficient, so... so emotionless. And it took her." The old man regained his focus and directed it at his young guest. "There are some Kyoshi-warriors out looking for her. I ordered everyone else to stay together, indoors, until we find it, and her."

Sokka himself was only listening to half of what the old geezer was telling him. He sipped his cup and let his eyes fall on his surroundings. Inside the leader's cabin was most of the town. It being a small community and the house being rather large... it was still to much of a tight fit for Sokka. At least hey were keeping together but they blocked most of the vision of the plain yet beautiful wooden ornaments in the room. The young boy felt uneasy with all these eyes on him. He was a leader by nature, yes. But such a dear subject, with so many unfamiliar faces... It was uncomfortable to say the least. They were all looking at him for answers he didn't have. Idea-guy had run out of steam. How he hoped that the young girl sitting next to him had been Suki rather than Ty Lee.

His mind was overflowing with other thoughts as well. Electric connections flashing through his brains. Last night was the same night he woke up. The sudden loss of the girl of his dreams. The girls in his dreams. He'd lost her as well. She'd ascended to the heavens. A spirit of wisdom and order. A benevolent watcher lighting the night, keeping the dark at bay. Now he'd lost her as well. Suki. His first love. Disappeared from the island. Taken away in his mind. A dream. Stolen in a dream. Just like her. Just like Yue. Yue keeping the dark away. The dream had been so cold. So cold without them, both of them. Yue'd gone, she'd gone as well. No spirit to keep the dark at bay. A spirit? A spirit! Taking her away, just like before. But different. Worse. He had to find her, quick.

"I saw it, you know." The man's voice brought Sokka back to this world. His eyes turned to him, to gain any actually usable information. "I've lived on this island my whole life. That night, I felt something was wrong, truly wrong. There was some sort of unnatural presence on the island, along with us. Deciding it was best to wake our protectors, I set off to her quarters. It was there, in her room. It lurked in the shadows, and I couldn't move. I felt so powerless. The full moon shone barely enough light to see it's outlines. But it was there. And a cloud slid in front of the moon. It descended upon her in the complete darkness. It took her in it's arms. It's many, many arms." A short silence fell upon the room. "Anyway, I'm sure you'll be wanting to joint the search party, Sokka. And we'd be glad to have you."

The water-tribe warrior put down his cup and spoke sternly. "You won't find her." His conversational partner seemed taken aback with this harsh resolution but at the same time wasn't completely surprised. "She's no longer on the island. That's why you can't find her. But perhaps I can. No, I will." Sokka felt the desperation in the room and felt something else was required from him. "I promise." He said, sounding rather lame. It was time to show initiative. Getting out of there was the best for everyone. It'd reassure them, get him out of this awkward position and would be the best for Suki, no doubt. "Look, I could sit here all day and try and explain it to you, or you could trust me."

"What do you need from us?" The leader asked.

"Transportation." Sokka said locking eyes with the old man.

"Ooo! Idea!" The sharp tone came from Sokka's side. Ty lee had an overwhelming smile on her face. The sheer fact of having an actual contributive idea showing so clearly.

* * *

Sokka never expected to see the creatures again. They were so magnificent and the recollection of the last time he rode one came back to him. It gave him hope, the speed alone. He was so happy to see them running in the fields outside of town. They were exactly what he needed.

"Told you." Ty lee spoke. "This is the fastest way to travel."

"They sure are." Sokka replied. "But how?"

"Suki's been caring for them for months. After you two parted ways, this is how she traveled back. Pretty great, huh?" She whistled and the two creatures ran at the two teenagers with great velocity. Before long Sokka was close enough to touch one of the eel-hounds. "To be honest, I think she visited them daily because it reminded of her adventures with you." To this, Sokka knew not what to respond. "Anyway..." She smiled softly and patted one of the creatures. "These will get us where we have to go faster than anything else."

"We?" Sokka asked and saw the girl gracefully hopping onto the beasts back.

"Sure." She said. She recognized the boy's expression, he wasn't sure about the idea. She knew he wouldn't tell her not to come, but wasn't sure it was the right course of action. "Look." She said. "You know I can handle myself. And I owe her one too, I'm not passing this up." This was rewarded by a little smile from Sokka. She patted the creature's neck. "Besides, you can't break these two up, right? It's not right." She blushed slightly.

"Okay." Sokka spoke. "I know she's important to you as well." He climbed up. To his embarrassment it was with a lot less grace then his female comrade. "Sure you don't want to say goodbye to the rest of the town?"

"Honestly? Not really. I'm actually wondering if the rest of this town really like me without Suki around." She noticed Sokka's stare. "Oh, they're nice, don't get me wrong. But I still feel like I'm an outsider."

Sokka sighed. "I know what you mean. I thought I longed for this place. But it was just for her. Truth is, without her, this place feels like one big prison."

Ty lee smiled. "We'll find her Sokka. So, where are we going?"

"We're going to find a bridge." Sokka responded. "A bridge to another world." And with that he forced the eel-hound to move as fast as it could.

"Ooo. How exciting!" Ty Lee said to herself and took off as well.

* * *

The small room of the 'tavern', for lack of better word for such a disgraceful rat-hole, was slowly filling with darkness. Graham could sense it. The single flickering candle kept it at bay, for now, but it was steadily gaining ground. Bent over the small, simple wooden desk in the stuffy room, he wrote in his journal. The bottle of hard liquor, some kind of scotch he'd never heard of before and probably wouldn't even remember, next to him, already a quarter empty. The darkness was clouding his mind and soul as the words he put down echoed through his head. He'd always had that one thing called imagination. It was his strength and it was his weakness. It made him capable and vulnerable at the same time. He feared it and loathed it and yet needed it now more then ever. As his own mind, his own acceptance to such horrid ideas, scared him beyond measure, with the dark closing in, he could feel the pieces falling into place. He felt as if he was seeing a painting, a piece of art, without getting it. The strokes seemed to random and yet to connected to represent anything at al. And yet slowly something was starting to show it's face. Not man or a woman, not an object or a situation. Not even a ritual or an emotion, but a feeling. And it was starting to feel cold and horrible. Reluctantly and yet desperately he sipped his stale glass once more and continued his writing.

"_Today was a pretty awful day. I didn't catch any sleep in quite some time and feel, worn out. The boat's engine finally broke down this morning. Damn loud thing's been keeping me up for two nights straight. Never trusting that 'fire-nation' technology ever again. When the mechanic had finally given up hope on fixing the damn thing, it was already mid-day. Thus a shipmate and myself had to row to the nearest harbor, which wasn't as near as I had hoped. The shipmate's returning towards the ship tomorrow, on another boat to get the rest of the crew and the ship itself. I told them I had to leave them, I've got to find another way to get to this Hannibal boy. Perhaps this lack of sleep and all this exhaustion is influencing my perception, but I feel like I'm starting to see things clearly, and I'm not certain whether or not I should be happy about this. _

_The mail-birds have been keeping me posted. As I try to remember all the facts clearly, I still feel like I'm grasping in the dark here. Yet this is all I know. The Lecter family, almost direct kin to the missing Earth King, had been staying in their cottage. It was there that they hid from the rebel-forces of the fire-nation, being certain that their city would be attacked and believing to be safer under the cover of the woods. I went there, accompanied by a guide that the knew the terrain well. Poor boy wasn't even sixteen, too young to see such a sight. First we found the war-balloon and the scorned bodies that surrounded it. And as horrible as that place reeked and looked, it was nothing compared to the horrific realization I made inside cottage. The place had been cleaned up, sort of speak, though. The body's, all of them, soldiers and family-members alike, had been buried, but the blood and pots had remained in their place. This makes me believe that the avatar and his companions, who've been confirmed of taking the Hannibal boy along, buried them. I can't imagine him burying the people that ate his family. _

_At any rate, the fact that he's accompanied by the avatar should assure me. As I can't confirm whether or not Hannibal is the 'direct reason' why Dr. Chilton is missing or just someone who's seen to much, someone in the wrong place at the wrong time, the presence of the avatar indicates that the boy's been taken under protection. Which would mean he's not a murderer. However I've got this nagging feeling that this is not exactly the case. I've interviewed the people at the hospital and their information about the boy's lack of __passion (completely understandable seeing as he's most likely witnessed the gruesome death of his family) combined with the fear and sadness I sensed coming from his butler (who I know is hiding something!) does not at up to his travels. I realize where he's going. I'm able to think like him, and that's not a good sign. It's too familiar and I wish I wasn't capable of entering such a state of mind, but I feel it now. His route, as the mail-birds are keeping me informed, is indeed leading to the home of the Verger family, the family that carries the same symbol I found on the war-balloon. That's why it doesn't add up! He can't be this shot down and be looking for vengeance. To avenge your family for such an act, that I understand. I don't even want to think what I'd do if they were to touch my wife, or her boy. That'd I'd understand, I'd still have to stop it, but I'd understand. And I don't want to feel what he feels, or rather lacks in that department, because he feels nothing. I'm afraid I'm doing it again, I'm chasing one of them again. Last time it nearly broke me down on the inside. I don't want to face it, I don't want to believe it. But there's this feeling that there is no feeling. There's no emotion in his quest, no passion just retribution. _

_He's been born, hasn't he? Just like Hobbs. I don't know if I can do it again. Can I get through this? I know I don't want to, not again.  
_

_Perhaps it's the drink talking. Perhaps I'm imagining things. Perhaps I'm just tired and worn out. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that Dr. Chilton is dead. I'm afraid that the avatar's been tricked. I'm afraid of my imagination. I'm afraid for my safety and I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't catch him soon. Bottom line, I'm afraid my employers were right after all._

_Perhaps this drink is helping my straighten my mind and maybe this cold dark room in a fainting candle is helping me get into his. But I don't know anything for sure. And with such a possibly sinister certainty, I'd rather remain in doubt for now. Either way, I have to catch up with these kids. It's no longer an investigation, it's rapidly becoming a manhunt."_

Graham looked up from his paper and sighed. He always did get a bit over dramatical when writing in such an atmosphere. The fact that the bottle next to him was now almost completely drained didn't help either. Noticing that one of his legs was asleep he got up and tried to walk about the room. Meanwhile he contemplated his next actions. First thing tomorrow he'd have to find transportation to the island of the Verger family. It wasn't far, perhaps two days by boat. Nothing he could do about that now. Sailors around here weren't the right kind of people to talk business to in the middle of the night. In his experience drunken promises never got you far. So all he could do right now was make himself comfortable until morning. He grabbed his coat and walked out of the room. He could have stayed downstairs. There was a bar, and it wasn't the fact that it was sleazy that made him look for a different one, but he needed some fresh air. He needed it to clear or fog his mind, either way it helped. Sadly for him, it made him miss a crucial moment.

The bartender working in the tavern had, to his own accords, the best job ever. All he had to do was pour glasses, hand out keys, collect money and order his wife to clean the place. Occasionally he'd get to throw some people out of his bar, which always put him in a great mood. If he was working a bit slow, no-one would dare tell him of this. That was the advantage of being as tall, strong and ill-mooded as he was.

Being in a business that revolves around serving people didn't help him remember any of them. Most of the people he got to meet were the same grey old shades that dispersed from his life and mind the next morning. That's why he did remember the two guests from that night for a long time. You don't often see two young people come around a port specifically built to shelter the occupants of ships, run by old butch sailors, that transported supplies. But he could even recall their arguing for a long time to come.

They walked through the door and already he could hear the girl complaining. "Are you sure we should have left them there? Sure they won't be lonely?"

"They have each-other, right? They'll be fine. It's only a couple of hours, we'll get them in the morning." The boy replied, already showing clear signs of being irritated because someone questioned his methods.

"But they were her..." The girl tried with some desperation in her voice.

"I know!" The boy yelled a bit too loud. The bartender was already looking forward to throwing this kid out. However the lad seemed to understand his transgression. "Look, I know, OK? It's just that we need to get some shut-eye for now."

"Why?" She asked, and truth be told the bartender could sense her liveliness and vigor already. She definitely didn't need any rest. Hearing the boy's resolution however he already went to grab a key as the two arrived at the bar.

"I'm tired." The boy said. And the bartenders had heard quite enough lies to tell them from the truth.

"You're not that good at lying, you know." She said, ever cheerful.

"Fine. I'm not that tired." The guy sighed and sagged his head down on the bar. This obviously had also been part of a previous and ongoing argument. The bartender smiled as he could foresee what would happen.

"So you admit it?" She asked quirky.

"Admit what?" He said, still denying.

"Oh, come on, just say it." She added a little pout, the bartender noticed as he walked up to them from his side of the bar.

"We're not lost, okay?" The boy snapped, but almost comically. "I just don't want us to get los, it's dark, you know. And I think they are tired, they've done all the swimming you know."

The bartender raised his voice and barged in on the conversation. "One night, one room, five copper-pieces, got it?" He noticed as the boy and girl looked at each-other in embarrassment.

After an awkward moment the boy placed eight copper-pieces on the bar. "We'll take to separate rooms." The girl said. And added in a teasing matter "Too bad, though.".

"Whatever." The bartender spoke and sighed as he fetched another key. As they walked up the stairs the bartender could barely hear the boy say, don't worry Ty Lee, we'll get there tomorrow, you'll see."

* * *

**A/N**: Chapter 6 already, huh? As you may have noticed, as you've bared through to the end I've set up a few things, though I'd rather have had that there'd been a bit more action in this chapter, I guess it was necessary. The plot's going to start picking up now the main characters are getting closer to each-other, each with a different motive and trying to reach their own. Some will be intertwined, others opposites...

Oh and not that I'm trying to write a gory story per se, but you haven't seen the last killing in this story yet.

**R&E&RIYWT** (Read and Enjoy and Review if you want to)


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